It sits alone
In an overgrown field
At the side of the road.
Ignored by the speeding traffic,
It marks a site of death.
Faded to colorlessness,
The artificial-flower cross,
Now many months old, leans against
A vigil light, long dark.
A plastic toy -
The one lost here was a child.
It marks a place of sorrow.
Hearts were marked here,
The broken hearts of the
Monument builders.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.05 seconds at 9:04am on Nov 16, 2024 via server WEBX1.